Blue Is The Warmest Color: Vivre d'amour et d'eau fraîche
by iwriteinblueink
Summary: What if Emma still loved Adele? What if, after Adele walks away from her for what she thinks is forever, Emma returns out of the blue and Adele realizes she'd secretly been hoping and waiting all this time? Set during and after the years of Adele and Emma's transformative, passionate relationship, this story explores the possibility that they can still live on love alone.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

_Vivre d'amour et d'eau fraîche:_ to live on love alone; to live a life free from worries or responsibilities.

Blue Is The Warmest Color left an immeasurably profound impact on me. In my opinion, it was a masterfully crafted experience in every respect: from the music, to the beautiful cinemetography, it's raw, and at the same time, subtle honesty in depicting life and love, and of course Adele Exarchopolous's and Lea Seydoux's powerful performances. We are priveledged to see the passionate beginning of Emma and Adele's relationship, and the tragic finality of it-leaving the rest to personal interpretation. I've seen this film several times, and each time, noticed something that made me understand and fall in love with it even more. I still maintain that the ending is breathtaking in its impact, and absolutely fitting-I am grateful for this film for helping me mature more and bring me closure in my own past relationship. But when I watched the film most recently, (and observed in particular the final two scenes) I was left with intriguing questions and possibilities: What if Emma still loved Adele? What if Adele never really moved on? Was it possible for them to live on love alone again? And what if Fate again gave them the opportunity to do just that? After all their personal characteristics, personal sacrifices and struggles Adele and Emma experienced, this story is the closure I think they deserve.

* * *

_The silence is deafening and  
I can feel us becoming strangers.  
I know that you think that I am  
a foolish woman that simply wants  
what is no longer mine, but my time  
with you made me feel like my bones  
finally had a place to rest.  
I am miserable without you, and  
your shadow has settled on all  
the things that you ever touched.  
Your memory is crushing all  
of the things that I used to love.  
I need you to tell me that everything  
is going to be okay.  
_

**Where you find her love, you will find me**- Mariah Gordon-Dyke

Adele was fine.

She could breathe again: the excruciating, heavy pain in her chest had gradually subsided into a dull ache that she had come to accept would always be a part of her. There was even a certain comfort in knowing it was there.

She could sleep again: she no longer woke up broken throughout the night and imagining burning, hungry lips and tongues, restless hands and wild eyes- this all consuming fire no longer burned the fabric of her dreams the way it used to. In fact, rest came to her fully when she didn't dream at all.

She could eat again: since she cooked only for herself now, her appetite consisted mainly of simple foods such as bruschetta with a glass of wine, ratatouille, even her father's recipe for spaghetti Bolognese once in a while. When she had re-learned to cook meals for their sustenance rather than sentimental value, her health had greatly improved.

She could think again: at first, not an hour would go by when she did not dwell on the past. It took her months to simply make it through the day without crying, or mercilessly reminding herself of decisions gone wrong. Drowning herself in a sea of memories every night, until she was convinced she was losing her mind and decided that she would have to forgive herself and simply accept the consequences of her actions or drive herself insane for the rest of her life. Since then, blue hair, blue eyes, blue paint-all of it drifted in and out of her mind from time to time but she would allow everything to overcome her, only so she could then gently exhale it and focus on living for today.

She could teach again: after spending the summer helping the children with difficulties, a new group of first graders would be under her care. Watching them learn how to speak, read, and write French gave her joy, especially knowing she had been the one to help them. Although she still wanted a family of her own, she was unsure if that would ever happen, and therefore felt a deep affection and bond with all of her students. At the end of the day, she would let herself go out with colleagues, but never too late, because she wanted to return home to focus on planning further lessons.

She could write again: poetry and prose that, while still melancholy and restrained by her standards, was refreshing and hopeful after a dark, bitter winter. Her first published work, a collection of children's stories, had been out for a month, just in time to celebrate the renewing season of Spring. Samir, in between his small acting roles and real estate, had helped her organize a release party. The local press in Lille had been there, as well as a few other teachers from work that taught Literature, and her mother had been there too-her father was still distant and hard to talk to ever since she'd moved out of the house after high school. It was one of the unfortunate realities that she had learned to live with.

And she could live again-without Emma. After their last devastating conversation in the cafe, where Emma claimed she no longer loved Adele despite feeling an "infinite tenderness' for her forever, and Adele's quiet departure from Emma's gallery showcase where she realized she did not belong anymore in her world, Adele had slowly, painfully maintained some sense of closure. She'd even visited their special spot in the park at Square Daubenton last week; the bench and majestic tree were the same as ever, and she could still recall her happiest memories there, but she could walk past it, even stay awhile, without being consumed by her emotions.

Adele had also found new ways to keep herself occupied and her mind under control. She was taking salsa dancing classes twice a week for example, enjoying the freedom of movement and sensual release the experience offered. To her pleasant surprise, Adele discovered that she had quite a passion for it, reveling in the music, the way it moved her blood and warmed her bones, revitalizing her confidence. So much so in fact, that she had boldly decided to get a tattoo in Romanian right underneath her left breast: "Pentru tine de o mie de ori" which meant _For you, a thousand times over_.

Yes, Adele could live without Emma-and she supposed that this, too, was fine.

But loving again was a different matter.

Although she had certainly made admirable progress in maturing and moving forward since her relationship with Emma, Adele still wasn't quite ready to give herself away to someone else. She wasn't even sure if she could; whereas falling in love with Emma had been numinous and swift, Adele felt as if she was forcing, forcing everything, with everyone else. She'd had some flings here and there, but nothing concrete, and so she concluded that she needed more time to regain and develop her sense of self, along with a change of scenery. To that effect, Adele had decided to finally travel to New York City as Samir had suggested years ago. After saving up little by little, she had bought plane tickets for a flight in two days and made arrangements for a month long stay. She was sure she'd return to Lille refreshed and with a new perspective on life.

This excitement for her oncoming trip filled Adele with an energetic sense of freedom as she moved throughout her apartment. The building itself was only two stories high, made of old bricks, with the roof and tower painted white. It was also located on Gounod Street, in the heart of Lille's historical district. The inside of the apartment was fairly spacious, as if trying its hardest to give Adele room to breathe: French doors opening to the balcony dominated the living area, which was furnished with a black leather sofa ,where her suitcases were laying open, and a wooden coffee table. The kitchen was off to the left, with cherry red cupboards that matched the oven door. A cookbook rested on the counter, beside a vase of peonies which filled the air with a sweet, cheerful fragrance.

The hardwood floors and carved beams near the ceiling gave the apartment a rustic charm and an aura of warmth that was separate from the warmth of the sunset spilling through the window. The light carelessly cascaded across the beige walls, as if purposefully splattered onto them by a stroke from a painter's brush. The light spilled into Adele's bedroom too, which also had a small window overlooking the boulevard, a shelf where she kept her favourite books, and a comfortable bed whose sheets of gold were embroidered with lilies-of-the-valley. Adele's favourite spot in the apartment was her mahogany writer's desk, tucked in the corner of the bedroom. The resin in the wood would seem to become inflamed as the light shifted and gained intensity throughout the day. Countless drafts of words were poured out on single sheets of paper, or napkins, or the backs of receipts, which were stuffed into the drawers along with Adele's notebooks she'd kept since highschool

She was just going through them at the moment, deciding which one she'd read and revise on the plane, when her eye caught a flash of a sketch on crinkled, yellowed paper. Hesitating for a heartbeat, Adele slowly disentangled it from the rest of the pages she'd scribbled on and inhaled sharply. It was the first sketch of Adele that Emma had ever done. Over the years, the sharp pencil strokes that captured the sweeping movement of her hair as it blew in the warm breeze of that sunny day had faded over time. The smudge marks from Emma's fingers had also been absorbed by the paper, just where they had traced the contours of Adele's face. But the innocence, anticipation, and mesmerizing power Emma had managed to preserve inside Adele's lingering gaze still remained.

As she admired the sketch, Adele felt as if she was taking a long look back into her past. She was completely unprepared for the rush of memories and emotions suddenly welling up inside her, as acutely painful as the cruel twist of a knife between the ribs. For a moment, Adele contemplated destroying the sketch, her most precious possession, if only to prevent herself this kind of heartache in the future. But before she could make a decision, there was an abrupt knock on the door.

Adele tried her best to breathe evenly and compose herself as she moved to open it. She wondered who could be wanting to see her; perhaps Samir had come to wish her a nice trip. Quickly tucking her hair behind her ears, she opened the door-and gasped in shock as she saw who it was. After a moment of stunned silence, Adele spoke the name she'd carefully locked away behind her lips like a secret, hardly daring to believe her eyes:

"Emma!"


	2. Chapter 2

_I struggle with wanting you all the time, so please don't mistake my silence for indifference. It's just I have to hold myself back because I feel too much. Too often. Too wildly out of my control._

**My words don't say much at all**-Tina Tran

* * *

Emma offered a tentative smile, but did not come any closer, lingering between the dimness of the hall and the light spilling from behind the half-open door. Her eyes, which were almost translucent, like the palest blue glass, too soft to be turquoise, too bright to be cerulean, slowly met Adele's gaze.

Adele could only stare back, her eyes ceaselessly drinking in the sight Emma. Her hair was not as short as it used to be; she'd let it grow to shoulder length and streaked it's natural almond color with blonde, which glinted as she tilted her head to regard Adele.

"You look well." Emma murmured.

"So do you." Adele answered courteously, trying her best to control the exhilarating sensation inside her from completely spilling out into her words and gestures. "What brings you here?" she asked as casually as she could.

"I was nearby. I thought we'd have a drink." Emma responded wryly, with that old twinkle of gentle amusement in her eyes, and Adele couldn't help but grin. But the spark of joy faded just as quickly as it came, replaced by the walls she had learned to build-from caution, which was the foundation; evasiveness, which was the mortar; and a recent steely resolve that was the brick. Adele's grip tightened on the doorknob as she overcame some of her shock enough to say:

"I thought we already had our last drinks and words a while ago."

Emma's smile slipped for a moment and she turned away, like she couldn't bear to look at Adele any longer. She suddenly seemed exhausted and uncertain: her shoulders slumped and she crossed her arms as if to keep herself together. When she finally looked back up at Adele, her gaze was lost, guileless. Then a looming decision flickered across her eyes, transforming them into the colour of an ocean during a storm. This was not at all like the Emma she knew-what was really going on? And all at once, recognizing Emma's starved, pleading glare and feeling the familiar impulse of curiosity, Adele blurted out "Come inside, please."

Emma hesitated, searching Adele's eyes for the seriousness of her offer. When she opened the door wider, Emma visibly became relieved and gratefully stepped inside the apartment.

While Adele was making iced tea in the kitchen, Emma sat stiffly on the edge of the sofa. Her face was calm, but her hands were clasped tightly together around her knees, her posture tensed, as if at any moment she was ready to leave. For Adele to let her in was already more than Emma had dared hope for. Adele even seemed willing to have conversation. "You'll have to excuse the mess. I wasn't expecting anyone." she said over the clinking of glasses.  
Emma gestured dismissively at the suitcases. "This is nothing compared to my studio. Where are you going?"

"I'm going to New York City, and I'll be staying there for a month." Adele answered, beaming.

Emma smiled back, equally surprised and impressed. "Is someone going with you?" she asked cautiously as Adele came over with their drinks. She shook her head and sat down next to Emma, keeping a comfortable distance between them.

"This trip is just for me." Adele explained, guessing the intent behind the question.

"So I suppose there's no chance I could come with you?" Emma said playfully.

"Not unless you could fit into one of these suitcases."

They both laughed, feeling relieved. In between sips of the cooling drink, Emma observed Adele, quietly basking in her presence. The light blue blouse she was wearing had a frilled collar which was unbuttoned around her neck, framed by her long brown hair.

"How is your painting?" Adele asked, resting her right arm on the back of the sofa and leaning her cheek onto her hand.

Emma pursed her lips and shrugged. "For a few months after Joachim showed me at the gallery, I was overwhelmed with commissions. Lise and I were busy non-stop working on new paintings, and I sold quite a lot of old ones. Some of them were particularly hard to let go of..." she trailed off and ran a hand through her hair in a familiar gesture of agitation. "Everything since then has progressed in an entirely orderly and predictable manner for me; nothing is random. There are always reasons besides my art why certain owners prefer me and certain pieces end up at certain galleries: convenience, timing, politics. Everything is deliberate-and slow."

"I thought you said nothing happened by chance." Adele reminded her with a grin, trying to ease her frustration.

Emma sighed. "Still...I prefer passion over predictability."

They resumed sipping their iced tea, exchanging glances that broke off just before either of them could read each other's thoughts. Emma finally placed her glass down, trailing a finger along its edge in circular motions, not looking at Adele as she asked:

"Why didn't you say goodbye to me at the gallery?"

Adele swallowed hard, searching for an appropriate answer. "You were talking to people. I didn't want to bother you."

"I told you: you don't bother me."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Adele shifted on the sofa, sitting upright, and decided to change the subject quickly.

"How is Lise? How are the kids?"

Emma glanced at her pointedly as she leaned back again. "Lise is fine. She's actually the one that paints more these days. Green is her preferred colour, and believe me, it's a hard one to get out of the kids clothes. Especially Clementine's; when Aude shows her the paint trays, Clementine can never resist covering her hands and chasing her around the house. I envy your peace and quiet." Emma said with a chuckle.

"Being a mother is definitely time consuming." _But worth every moment, _Adele thought longingly.

"So is working as an art history guide at the Museum." Emma added.

"Oh? Well, now you know what having a real job is like!"

Emma snorted. "I haven't stopped painting, Adele. There's just less time for it now." _And inspiration. _

"Is Lise a good muse?"

"She's...docile. I ask her to pose, and she does it without questioning if there's a better angle, or a better place for the lighting. I mix shades of red, and I never realized before how such a bold colour could become so subdued. She's not my muse-not like you were."

Adele held her breath, astonished by Emma's words, yet she was also secretly proud that Lise could not quite measure up to her. However, Adele frowned at the unexpected, painful twinge of disappointment she felt as Emma continued.

"But there is a calm in painting her and I...needed it for a while." Emma motioned with her hands as she spoke to illustrate her point. "When I paint her curves, the color seems to melt and flow onto the canvas. Her eyes too, they have such an affection within them that has been there ever since the children were born. Lise and I simply have a balance that keeps things from unraveling."

Emma's eyes had become distant as she spoke, and Adele suddenly longed to be the reason to bring a spark back into them. She set her glass down and moved closer to Emma on the sofa so their knees were touching. Brought out of her reverie by the contact, Emma turned as Adele said:

"But you're not happy."

Emma's eyes closed tightly for a moment and she took a deep breath. When she opened them, she looked right into Adele's eyes and said: "_Tu es dans toutes mes pensées._ Tes yeux, j'en rêve jour et nuit."

_You are in all of my thoughts. Your eyes, I dream of them night and day. _At her words, Adele suddenly felt a surge of desire that equally scared and excited her. But she knew that self-restraint was imperative, so instead of leaning in and kissing Emma like she found she desperately wanted, Adele got up and took their empty glasses to the kitchen. Her breathing was becoming erratic, so she disguised it by turning the faucet on. As she washed, she tried to make sense of her conflicting thoughts. All of the months of hard work she'd spent trying to move on from Emma now seemed fake in the face of her raw emotions; the fact that she still had the power to affect Adele this much proved that she had not fully let go. But apparently, neither had Emma...despite being in a relationship with Lise and raising two children.

Adele frowned, feeling pressure mounting in her chest. Realizing what she wanted was presently not as worrying as realizing that she had to decide, _right now, _between that and the circumstances of Emma's relationship. If she decided to make Emma leave, that meant there would be no harm done-she would return to her family and Adele knew she would never see her again. If she let her stay a moment longer...Adele placed her hands on the cool surface of kitchen counter and tried not to drown in the wave of sadness that crashed into her. It brought with it another realization: she couldn't bear to lose Emma again.

Adele turned as he heard the doors in the living area open. She walked forward to see that Emma had stepped out onto the balcony, leaning against the wrought iron railing. For a moment, Adele simply watched her take out a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of her leather jacket and struggle with the evening breeze to light one. It was such a simple movement, the way she brought the cigarette to her lips, but Adele adored how they closed firmly on the end as she inhaled. After brushing her hair out of her eyes, heart pounding rapidly in her chest, Adele moved towards Emma and said "It's a nice view." She looked away from observing the old oak trees that lined the street and nodded, flicking glowing embers beyond the railing. The tall streetlights stood like sentinels along the boulevard, cars passed by and honked below, people were little more than darkly coloured smudges moving through the evening, but the last, faded orange of the sun washed over the roofs of houses, adding a gentle chaos to the sky.

"This is like the first few nights that we moved into our place. We'd smoke and talk in the backyard for hours." Emma said, smiling widely to reveal some of the gaps between her teeth.

Adele smiled as well, recalling the memory. "Or like the first time you asked me to pose for you."

Emma burst out laughing. "All of that fuss for nothing!" she scoffed, but her eyes had become distant again as she remembered...


	3. Chapter 3

_How's my luck? But somehow I'm with you. Let's leave now, let's leave them, their point of view, my favorite place is me and you. I wake up in the darkest night, watch you breathe in shadow light. A perfect world lies next to me and I don't need to sleep to dream.  
_

_I just hope I am good enough to keep you._

_Morning sun warms our skin and distant sounds, the day begins. Soon their world will come calling for us, but this is the space they cannot touch.  
_

_I just hope I am good enough to keep you._

**Space They Cannot Touch**- Kate Miller Heidke

Thanks to Emma's helpful parents, unpacking their belongings, Emma's art supplies, and decorating the apartment went smoother than expected, but it still took them about two weeks to fully get settled into their new home. Adele was especially excited at knowing that they could finally share the same space every day, that seeing Emma wasn't limited to just when she could get away with it. The first few nights, they slept on the bare mattress until the rest of the furniture for the bed room arrived, but then Emma had insisted on repainting it after she'd noticed the original coat had begun to peel.

"Maybe it'll last for a few more years." Adele said hopefully as she handed Emma the tray of paint and a roller.

"Il ne faut rien laisser au hasard." she replied with a wink, glancing down from the top of the step ladder. She worked swiftly, her white t-shirt clinging to her torso as she reached over to cover a particular section of the wall. Her faded denim jeans proved to limit her balance, and Adele had to grasp her ankles to keep Emma from falling off the ladder. They worked together all day for a full week on the room, and in the evenings, they would relax in the backyard. One evening, they were smoking and discussing Adele's course load for teacher's college.

"I'm going to have four courses three times a week," Adele complained.

"Don't worry, I'll miss you." Emma said with a toss of her blue hair.

Adele rolled her eyes and gave her a playful slap on the shoulder. She yawned and leaned back to stretch, curving her spine and accentuating the contours of her body. Suddenly, Emma stood up and grabbed Adele by the hand, pulling her to her feet. She then dragged her, bewildered and protesting, inside the house.

"What is it Emma?" Adele demanded, watching her push the grey couch over to her and begin placing blue towels over it. Then she disappeared into the other room, past the stained glass doors, where her studio was and come back moments later carrying a canvas, paints, and brushes. "Take your clothes off and lie down." she commanded Adele.

"No way!" she burst out incredulously. "You're actually going to paint me _now_?"

"Yes, right now. Please Adele, take your clothes off."

Adele crossed her arms. "I'm not sure this is a good idea." she said hesitantly. Yet her cheeks had begun to flush from more than just embarrassment.

Emma's brow furrowed in concern. "I'd never make you do anything you don't want to, you know that. But I've seen you naked before plenty of times ma chère, and I want your beauty to be known to the world. To be known to _yourself._" she emphasized. Seeing that she'd almost convinced Adele, Emma moved closer to her and kissed her cheek, while her hands tugged at the bottom of her shirt. Adele raised her hands and Emma slipped it off, followed shortly thereafter by her black bra. Then Emma knelt down and unzipped her jeans, tugged them off along with her panties, and stepped back to admire Adele who couldn't stop herself from grinning and giggling.

Emma smiled warmly in approval. "Voila! Now just lie down." she instructed Adele, who did as she was asked and tried to get comfortable while Emma set the canvas on the easel. "There, hold still!" she exclaimed as Adele turned to her side, tucking her right arm under her head while her left trailed lazily across her stomach. She held that pose for what seemed like forever, shivering slightly, yet feeling heat blossom below her waist every time Emma's piercing blue eyes traveled along the length of her body. With each stroke of her brush, Adele felt as if Emma was right there caressing her, and when their eyes met across the room, Adele's breath caught in her throat. She began to shift her position, for remaining still for a moment longer was torture, until Emma snapped "Don't move!" and Adele obeyed.

When Emma finally finished, she dried her stained hands on her shirt and brought the painting over to Adele who gasped, stunned at how the different hues of blue accented each part of her. There was a sweeping movement to the brush strokes, an urgent desire that flowed to the rhythm of Adele's wild hair. "I'll do the finer details tomorrow," Emma explained, rubbing her eyes tiredly, "but I think that's good enough for now."

Adele rose from the couch and simply tilted Emma's face down to kiss her deeply. "I love you." Adele murmured as she took a breath, right before Emma kissed her back, and the world outside of the two of them ceased to matter.

* * *

A few weeks before she was supposed to take her final exams to become a teacher, Adele caught a fever. She'd come home from the florist's shop down the street, bringing Iris's with her, and as the afternoon progressed she felt worse and worse. By the time Emma came home, Adele was lying on their bed, soaked in her own sweat and half delirious. Emma had immediately given her a cold bath to reduce the heat, and afterward she tucked Adele in, remaining by her side all through the night.

"It will pass by tomorrow." Adele kept insisting, but each time Emma quieted her and shook her head. In the morning, she tried getting up but Emma would not hear of it. "You're going to rest until you're better!" For the next few days, Emma postponed all of her meetings with potential patrons, she took care of all the household necessities, and despite her limited cooking skills, managed to make beef and vegetable ragout for dinner which restored some of Adele's strength. She ate slowly under Emma's worried and watchful gaze, licking her lips gratefully when she finished the meal.

"Your forgot to add port wine to the beef." she scoffed after Emma had taken the plates away to the kitchen and returned to sit on the edge of the bed beside her.

"You should be happy I could make it in the first place." Emma mumbled, running both hands through her hair.

"Yeah well, I'm still going to be relieved when I'm better because I don't think I could stand another minute of your cooking." Adele teased as she slipped lower between the covers. "I miss you sleeping next to me." she said after a while, resting her hand on top of Emma's. She intertwined their fingers and leaned in to kiss Adele's forehead. "I miss it too, but it's only for a while longer." Emma waited quietly, watching Adele's breathing become steady. The lamp on the bedside table softly cast its glow on her face, emphasizing the small cleft in her chin and her adorable cheeks. She parted her lips, as she so often did while sleeping, and Emma smiled tenderly, Intending to stand up, she moved her hand away, but Adele's grip tightened on it and her eyes fluttered open for a moment.

Emma leaned in, concerned, but her heart swelled with joy at Adele's words.

"I'm so glad I met you." she whispered, sighed contentedly, then closed her eyes again.

* * *

Adele remembered the day Emma washed the blue colour from her hair. She came home later than expected, looking thoroughly disappointed, her hair matted against her forehead and into her eyes. Adele kissed her on the cheek in greeting, taking her tote bag. "Anything wrong?" she asked worriedly.

"I didn't finish the mural and I couldn't get another extension, so I was decommissioned."  
Adele's heart sank. Emma had spent months on it, first molding the plaster then outlining the intricate designs, taking care to specifically designate areas where the paint would overlap. Complications arose when the supplies hadn't arrived on time, and when the main paint finally did come, there was not enough of it. Adele hugged Emma tightly, rubbing her back reassuringly as she said "You tried your best, that's all that matters. If they can't appreciate your effort, they don't even deserve your art."

Emma pulled away, gazing at her gratefully. "You're a sweetheart."

"Don't even worry about it. I'm sure you'll do something even more amazing! In the meantime, I can cover our bills. Just sit down now and try to relax."

After dinner, Emma washed the dishes while Adele got ready for bed. She lay naked under the covers for a while, lost in thought, then reached for her notebook. She was still writing in it when Emma came in, and looked up at her expectantly. But Emma went straight into the bathroom and closed the door; after a while, Adele heard the water running in the shower. She tried to focus on the poem she was writing, choosing her words carefully, going over the ones she wanted again with her pencil, crossing others out, then being distracted by Emma dropping the soap and letting loose the foulest, loudest, longest string of curses Adele had ever heard.

"Is everything alright?" she called out after the water was shut off.

Silence.

She threw the covers off and was about to leap out of bed when the bathroom door opened. Emma stood in the doorway, drops of water still clinging along her neck and breasts, running down her legs. Her hair was no longer electric blue, but light brown, pushed back from her face, freeing her wild eyes.

"Emma..." Adele said hoarsely.

Emma was by her side in a few swift strides and clambering onto the bed as Adele's arms brought her closer with possessive strength. Emma entwined one hand in Adele's long hair and tugged it back, raising her face so she could kiss her deeply, while her other hand slipped between her thighs, stroking the slick warmth between them. Adele's hands had cupped her breasts and she pressed against them hard, a perfect rhythmic counterpoint to Emma's deft fingers slipping farther inside her.

Adele breathed out harshly and tilted her head back, exposing her neck to Emma's lingering, incessant kisses, grasping her shoulders when she felt teeth scrape her skin and shivering when Emma's tongue subsequently licked the same spot. She closed her eyes, breathing the faint soapy scent that mixed with the familiar smell of Emma's skin, glorying in the heat that burst forth and tingled all along her body as Emma suckled her breasts. Adele suddenly found herself tugging at Emma's hair with a cry of abandon as she felt her hot breath centimeters away from where she throbbed and ached for her the most. Emma purposefully stared into Adele's eyes as she leaned down, never breaking contact for a moment, even as her lips and tongue greedily, wickedly, caused Adele to arch her spine and convulse repeatedly.

Before she could catch her breath and still her quivering body, Emma parted Adele's legs wider and with startling speed and intensity, plunged her fingers even deeper inside. Her movements were demanding, ruthless, uncontrollable, and she was focusing so intently that she didn't notice Adele's lips inaudibly pleading for her to _stop. _Not until she'd clawed at her back as her thighs began to shake, her pelvis lifting clear off the soaked bed sheets, her piercing cry causing Emma's head to snap up as if she'd been doused in cold water.

Adele had grabbed her upper arms and was panting. "Please Emma, please, I can't-I don't think I can again, _please..._" and her voice broke into a whimper as Emma removed her wet fingers, trying to control herself. Adele looked afraid, uncertain-hopeful. Emma gasped as she recognized her gaze was silently pleading for her to do anything but stop, wanting to help her. Yet Emma remained hesitant, caught between the enormity of her desire and the danger of hurting Adele. Tentatively, she leaned in to kiss Emma, their lips fusing together, closing her eyes as she poured herself into it. When Adele opened them again, Emma saw a deep trust that humbled her. Unselfishly, Adele waited for Emma to make a decision, her hands trailing down the length of her spine, down to her backside, caressing it gently, then back up again to her neck, holding her head safely in place. She shifted and slowly pressed Emma back down onto the bed, interlocking their hands together as she rested her weight reassuringly on Emma's hips. Still waiting. Still trusting.

Then Emma grabbed her hips, pushing and pulling them until Adele's eyes widened in understanding. She began to grind against Emma, slowly at first, enjoying her shuddering moans, then began to speed up. She leaned down to plant kisses all over her face, her neck, on her breasts, circling her tongue over the already wet skin around her nipples, accompanied by Emma's encouraging hands roaming all over her. In the midst of their cries, the intensity building between them to the point of explosion, Adele was suddenly reminded of the poem she'd been writing. Closing her eyes, happy that she'd helped Emma find her release as well as happy that her own was tearing through her, the words seemed to burn in her mind:

_Explore Me_

_thoroughly_

_ceaselessly_

_truthfully_


	4. Chapter 4

_The consequences of every act are included in the act itself._ **1984**-George Orwell

Adele watched as Emma viciously crushed the cigarette underneath her heel and exhaled in frustration. As pleasant as it was to reminisce about their past, their present circumstances brought nothing but bitterness. It was excruciating to have Emma here, so _close, _and yet she could not reach out and close the distance between them.

"I don't know what to do."

Emma looked at the ground, tightening her jaw.

"Please, you need to- leave." Adele implored her painfully, fighting the hot tears that threatened to seep from her eyes and the rising, burning pain in the back of her throat.

And now Emma looked up. "You want me to go?"

"You can't stay here. Lise is-"

"She thinks I'm working the night shift at the museum."

"Emma..."

She placed her hands delicately on Adele's shoulders and looked at her intently. "If you didn't want me here, you wouldn't have let me in."

Adele gasped, feeling the weight of the words-their _truth. _It frightened her more than anything that had happened that evening, because she knew just being in Emma's presence again would unbalance her carefully constructed closure. Thanks to their ten year relationship, Emma knew it too, and even though Adele was well aware of the subtle manipulation, she still let her lean in. Their lips hovered close, but neither of them moved to kiss. Instead, Adele whispered in Emma's ear:

"I want this, but I can't."

Emma pulled away, startled. Adele pressed her momentary advantage.

"You know I'm leaving in a few days. You're with Lise, you have Aude and Clementine...you can't just come in and out of my life whenever you realize you aren't happy."

"I'm happy. I'm happy like this, with you. It's my way of being happy." Emma whispered, squeezing her hands. Adele was silent, her gaze flicking from Emma's eyes, to the railing, then back to Emma's eyes again. She finally responded:

"If you still feel the same when I return...we'll see."

* * *

On the plane ride back to Lille, Adele couldn't sit still. While New York City had been thrilling to experience, half of her mind was constantly worrying about Emma and the frustrating position she had put them both in. _I'll just have to tell her to go away. That's it. _Adele had been trying to convince herself of this every night before falling asleep. During the day, it was easy to be distracted, but when she had time to herself, Adele would admit that despite being shocked at Emma's sudden appearance, she'd secretly been waiting and hoping for her to show up. It was a latent wish, like tucking a lottery ticket inside a worn jacket and forgetting about it until the winning numbers were announced. For the first few nights, Adele had completely crumbled, feeling that she'd lost all of the progress over the past few months, then realizing that she hadn't fundamentally progressed at all.

As the plane dipped lower, coming in for the landing, Adele's heart dipped between a twisted satisfaction from this fact, and a fear that opened up a cold void in her chest. She wanted Emma in her life, but she still had no idea how they could pull that off without destroying the lives of everyone around them. It was selfish to want so much, and yet it was so exhilarating to lose herself in the possibilities. _But no. I'll just have to tell her to go away. That's it. _Adele thought again as the plane smacked into the runway, jolting her. She would tell Emma as soon as they had a moment to themselves. And just like they had planned, Emma was waiting for her outside the car in the parking lot of the airport. But instead of greeting Adele with her beguiling smile, Emma's lips were pressed in a hard line, and her face was pale, sick with worry. Adele quickened her pace.

"What happened?" she asked breathlessly as she came over.

"Lise was in a car accident. She's in the hospital."

* * *

Lise's room in the intensive care ward was claustrophobic. It was dominated by a bed with lumpy padding and sterile white sheets covered by a pale blue blanket trying desperately to mask the thick plastic mattress underneath. Along the edge of the toilet, shower and tub was a handicap railing. The floor was cold and institutional, and the rain soaked window only offered a small, dreary view of the neighbouring roofs. The room was never completely dark, thanks to several different fluorescent lighting options: light for the whole room, light for just the entryway, light for just the bed, and the small bedside light. The smell of sickeningly, obsessively clean chemicals was enough to induce nausea.

Adele hovered just beyond the pool of light around the bed. The gloomy silence of the room was pierced by the red light, which beeped at regular intervals due to the monitoring system that supported the IV pole, at the end of which one of Lise's pale arms was attached. Emma sat on the edge of the plastic chair by the bed, holding her other arm tightly, as if trying to transfer strength. Lise's eyes gradually fluttered open, and she smiled weakly when she saw Emma. Her smile widened when she looked over at Adele and Emma motioned for her to come closer.

"Hi Lise." Adele said quietly.

She spoke slowly, enunciating every syllable. "Emma...and I wanted...to invite you over...to celebrate your book...Emma loves...reading it...to the kids...but I never imagined...to see you...like this."

Adele shot a glance at Emma, who quickly looked away. "I'm thankful you thought of me so kindly." she said, smiling as warmly as she could. "How are you holding up?"

Lise tolled her eyes and shook her head, her long blonde hair falling into her face. As Emma brushed it away, Adele felt a stab of jealously. She shoved it down, focusing on Lise's faint words. "I won't...be leaving...anytime soon. My legs...crippled."

Adele's stomach churned as she imagined how horrible the crash must have been. Emma had explained on the ride there that Lise had been going to pick up the Aude from school; while driving through an intersection, a speeding truck had hit her car directly on the side.

"I'm...lucky to be...alive." Lise said with a small chuckle, reaching for her water on the bedside table. Adele swiftly handed the cup over to her.

"No such thing as luck." Emma said firmly. "You'll get better."

"Yes...I know." Lise squeezed her hand. "But...it will...take time. Months...before I can...come home."

Emma bowed her head. Lise leaned back onto the pillow and closed her eyes. The machine flickered and beeped. Adele had an idea.

* * *

The midday sun was suspended in a cloudless sky. Mercifully, the heat was not scorching, but it was certainly still hot enough to justify a trip to the ice cream parlour. Adele kept Aude well within her sights as she skipped ahead, her peach orange dress swaying in the breeze. Her hair was short, streaked with red, and she had Lise's hazel eyes. Clementine's eyes were like honey: precisely the same colour and just as sweet. Adele shifted her more securely in the crook of her left arm as she used her right hand to adjust Clemintine's hat so the sun's glare would not bother her. They approached the fountain in the center of the square, surrounded by boutiques and a bookstore A constant stream of people moved back and forth, on foot, skateboards, bicycles, or roller skates. Their conversations and laughter echoed along with the enchanting sound of a Hang drum, played by a young man with dread-locked hair sitting in the shade of a tree.

"Aude, wait for us!" Adele shouted as the child ran excitedly into the parlour. She set Clementine down on the edge of the fountain and sat beside her to rest for a moment. Dipping her hands into the water, painted red fingernails shimmering against its surface, Adele dabbed her hair, cheeks, and the back of her neck. She placed a cool hand on Clementine's forehead, scooped her back up, and walked after Aude .

The bells on the door chimed sweetly as Adele opened it, then the noise from the square faded as it shut. Mouth watering ice cream flavours wafted across the room, mixing with the smell of fresh waffle cones. Across the black and white checkered floor at the far side, there were three stools. Aude sat on the middle one, merrily swinging her legs and speaking rapidly to the man behind the counter. He looked to be in his early thirties. A white apron covered his burgundy roll-up sleeve shirt and tan coloured jeans. His black hair was shaved at the sides, oiled and swept neatly from the back to the front. The aquiline nose he sported complemented his prominent cheekbones. His oak brown eyes were a-gleam with delight as he listened to Aude's speech, rubbing the sand-rough stubble that covered his chin thoughtfully as he considered her question.

"...and that's why chocolate is my favourite flavour ever! What's your favourite?"

"It's hard to pick, there's so many! But I think I would say...mustard!"

"Mustard?!" Aude made such a scandalized face that the man burst out laughing. As Adele approached, she hopped off the stool and looked up innocently.

"Can I try the mustard flavour?"

"I don't think so." Adele replied, biting her lip in amusement.

"Hmph!" Aude crossed her arms and stomped away to look at other non-forbidden flavours.

"Would you like to try some?" the man asked Adele, reaching for a cone.

"I'll play it safe with Vanilla. And just a little bit in a bowl for her, please." Adele added, gesturing to Clementine.

"I want chocolate!" Aude yelled.

"And chocolate too."

"Sure thing." he said with a grin. While he scooped, Adele noticed he glanced at her several times. Despite his attempts to remain discreet, she noticed his eyes lingering on her eyes; how she'd tied her hair into a neat bun; on her white, dangling earrings; on the black sheer blouse and the navy blue-white polka dotted vest she wore over top; on the small leather purse slung over her right shoulder; and right down to her gladiator sandals. As he handed the children their bowls and Adele her ice cream cone he said:  
"Your kids are adorable!"

Adele smiled. "Thank you."

"How long have you been married?"

Her smile faded. "I'm not married."

"Oh, I beg your pardon! I thought..." He trailed off apologetically. His eyes flickered across her face

again, searching for answers.

"Thanks for the ice cream." Adele said quietly and turned away, leading Clementine and Aude back outside.

* * *

Hollow eyes. The dried-blood scab on the very edge of her left thumb. Snapped leg bones protruding from sallow skin sewed together. Stolen time, suspended in tubes and reflections on cold pristine floors. Motionless, heavy, still and predictable-waiting. Recovering. Words of expectation. Distant soul. Faithful heart.

Hopeful eyes. The corners of her mouth rising like a phoenix from its ashes. Warm hands. The scent of lavender in reckless hair swept aside. Acquired time, suspended in plans and mending in preparation for better seasons. Dancing, weightless, focused and alluring-waiting. Realizing. Words of wanting. Heavy soul. Wild heart.

"I can't thank you enough for everything." Emma said in between mouthfuls of chicken chasseur-her favourite, as Adele reminded her happily when they sat down for dinner.

"Having you here with the kids too...Lise is especially grateful."

"I'm glad I can help." Adele murmured. She took a long drag of her cigarette and yawned; taking her students for a day trip to the beach had worn her out considerably. Emma continued eating in silence, feeling Adele's eyes on her with an intensity that seemed to enflame her skin. More and more frequently, Emma found herself slipping into the familiarity of their relationship whenever she came home from the Museum or the Hospital: these late night dinners and conversations, shadowing each other's movements throughout the apartment they'd shared for ten years, laughing together, breathing together, living together...and more and more frequently, Emma reminded herself that no matter how comforting, how_ appropriate_ everything felt, it shouldn't be feeling that way.

"This is just like old times huh?" Adele blurted, as if reading her thoughts.

Emma smiled, but no spark reached her eyes . "Well, there are a few differences..."

"Just here and there." Adele added dryly, leaning forward.

Emma sighed and put her fork down; she knew she'd have to choose her words carefully. "Y'know Adele, as thankful as I am that you're here, I still think you should..."

"What?"

"I don't know-just-just maybe go out a little more. In between taking care of me and the kids, you hardly have time for yourself."

"Do you want me to leave...?" Adele's voice was shaking.

Emma growled in pure frustration."No, I want you here! But you have to live for yourself, to be happy!" She gestured wildly to emphasize her point. "Lise will be back in a month so you don't need to worry about the kids, and-I'll be working and you-you should date again! Find a man, start a family, just-just..." she broke off her sentence miserably.

Suddenly, Adele reached across the table, grasped Emma's face and kissed her, hard. After a moment of shock, eyes wide with disbelief and lips burning, Emma kissed her back. Their movements were untamed by the ferocity of their desire: crushing their mouths together in starved desperation, leaning into each other as if they were unable to be close enough, their kissing building intensity with every precious second they gave themselves permission to abandon responsibility. They lived only for the next moment of love-the next heartbeat in synchrony, the next smoldering gaze, slip of the tongue, or delicious bite on the lip. Emma exalted in the low moan of anticipation torn from Adele when she turned her head to let Emma devote her tongue and mouth to the sensitive skin of her neck. Then Adele kissed her again, reaching under the table; Emma gasped, and Adele silenced any potential protests by smothering their lips together again until they both pulled away for air, panting.

"Maman!"

Both Adele and Emma stood at the same moment.

Aude was peering over the top of the sofa, just her red streaked hair visible. "Clementine can't sleep." she said, coming over to the table, her arms tightly clutching a blue teddy bear with one eye missing.

"I'll read her a story." Adele stood quickly and lifted Aude to her shoulder, carrying her carefully back to bed. When Adele returned half an hour later, Emma still hadn't moved from the chair. She had bowed her head into her hands, not stirring even when she heard the scrape of the chair opposite and Adele sinking into it. Only when she felt Adele gently pull her hands could Emma bear to look at her once more. Adele simply held her hands. Still waiting. Still trusting.

Honest eyes. Heaving breaths. Damnation within salvation. Echoes of their action ringing shrilly in their ears, followed by quiet understanding unraveling between them.

No need for explanation-simply understanding.


	5. Chapter 5

_It is beautiful, it is endless, it is full and yet seems empty. It hurts us._

**Fathomless-**Jackson Pearce

* * *

The _pop! _of the champagne bottle opening made Adele flinch so violently, she almost dropped the cake she was carrying over to the table. Samir helped her set it down as Emma came out of the apartment pushing Lise in a wheelchair. Their friends cheered and clapped when she took her place at the head of the table and Emma leaned down to kiss her swiftly on the lips. Adele pretended not to notice. Lise calmed everyone down, blushing, and cleared her throat.

"I want to thank you for this homecoming, and all the support you've shown over these past few difficult months, whether with phone calls or cards or chocolates or dropping by to visit a painter with a slight leg problem." she added amongst pockets of chuckles. "I would especially like to thank Adele," Lise said loudly, "for her selfless love and help." Adele swallowed hard. "She's crying!" someone shouted and again everyone laughed while Adele vigorously shook her head, grinning. After Samir poured the champagne Lise raised her glass. "To Adele!" she proclaimed with a wink, draining the drink in one gulp. As everyone thunderously echoed her words, Adele caught sight of Emma's lips through the tangle of upraised arms, glistening, secret, bold, and promising.

* * *

"Please feel free to come see us anytime you want!" Lise told Adele after seeing off the last few guests. "You are always welcome here." she emphasized as she wheeled herself over. Pots and silverware clanged together over the rushing water from the kitchen as Emma washed the dishes; Adele could see her shadow moving against the wall, silhouetted in blue, red, yellow and green colours by the light shining through the stained glass from the foyer.

"Thank you." Adele said quietly.

"I'm sure Clementine and Aude would love to see you for their birthdays. They grow up so fast!" Lise murmured. "Before you know it, they'll be coming home with dates!"

The water in the kitchen shut off, and a moment later, Emma came over, drying her hands on a faded orange dish cloth.

"Well I really should get going. I don't want to trouble you any longer." Adele tried her best to keep the reluctance out of her voice. She leaned down for Lise to kiss her goodbye on both cheeks.

"Like I said Adele-come anytime!"

Adele straightened, catching Emma's eye. She walked over and hugged her, pulling away before Emma could kiss her as well. "Au revoir," called Emma as Adele had opened the door. She was half way out on the threshold when Clementine and Aude ran towards her, hugging her legs. Adele leaned down and kissed them both on the tops of their heads.

"You'll come read us your stories again right Maman?" Clementine asked her, looking up with a gap toothed grin.

Adele's head snapped over to look at Lise. Her face was impassive. Emma looked like she could've been knocked over by a feather.

"I...I hope so, darlings." Adele answered them. Then she fully stepped outside and closed the door behind her firmly.

* * *

"I'm going over to François's!" Aude announced over her shoulder, bolting out of the apartment and almost falling down the stairs in her haste to leave before Emma stopped her.

Adele, sitting down on the front stairs, heard her coming and called out. "Hold on just one moment."

Aude halted, groaning. "I don't have time, I'm going to be late!" she whined in frustration.

"Believe me, you've got time. This old lady hasn't got time," Adele scoffed, "so you'd better listen."

Aude snorted. "You're not old! You've just been here ever since I can remember."

Adele grinned, sweeping her hair back and motioning for her to sit. Aude slumped down on the creaking wood beside her, trying her black converse and tugging her cropped Led Zeppelin shirt down in a futile attempt to cover the distance that remained between her stomach and waist. Her faded jeans were ripped at the knees and she picked at a thread while Adele lit a cigarette. She handed it over to Aude, who at first feigned surprise, then shrugged and inhaled gratefully.

"So...last time I talked to Lise, she said you've been seeing François for about a year now." Adele said, looking out at the street. Twilight had begun to fall over Lille, bringing a serenity to the way shadows attached themselves to objects, the way the wind slipped through the canopies of the trees, the way time seemed to pause just so they could speak their words without hurry.

"You talked to her again? I'm impressed. "Aude flicked the ashes away, watching them sear as they fell to the ground.

"When I could get a word in between her screaming, yeah." Adele said with a dry chuckle.

"Clem hates it when they fight, it interrupts her guitar practice." Aude added quietly. Adele shifted uncomfortably.

"Don't change the subject. You've been seeing this boy for a year now?" she repeated.

Aude nodded. "And Henri."

"What?" Adele's eyes narrowed.

"This other guy, Henri," Aude explained, rolling her eyes to emphasize his importance, "is so hot! He picked me up after school the other day and we made out in his car for_ever-_" Suddenly, she was cut off as Adele grabbed her by the shoulders. Her hair had cascaded over her face, her eyes were suddenly enraged, and she shook Aude violently as she shouted:

"Don't you _dare _cheat on François do you understand me?"

Aude tried to wriggle from her grasp. "Let me go! I'm going to be late!"

Adele tightened her grip. "Shut up and listen to me. You don't understand _anything _about love-you can't throw it away by being so careless!" she snarled. Aude had never seen her like this before.

"I didn't say anything about _love_," Aude sneered. "Who says I'm in love?"

Adele shook her head. "You're only eighteen, you have no idea..."

"Then tell me. What's it like being in love?" Aude demanded. "I've never seen you with anyone!"

Relinquishing her grip, Adele sighed heavily and lit a cigarette for herself. She sat still and silent for so long Aude thought she wasn't going to get an answer. Then Adele spoke so softly, she had to lean in and hear her.

"What I thought about being love when I was your age is very different from what I think about it now. I know more, and yet...it's as if nothing's really changed. Love is meeting one person, who can change your life." Adele said simply. "You are going to let other people talk to you, let other people touch your body, let other people wait for you. But you're never going to talk to them, let yourself touch them, the same way you will when you do this for the one you love. You're going to wait for the one you love. You're going to wait a long time." Adele added, extinguishing her cigarette.

"But how can you wait without knowing if it'll happen for sure?" Aude asked timidly.

Adele gave a small, tired smile. "Love can happen anytime, anywhere. In a cafe, when you're crossing the street...Sustaining it is the real test. And you're dangerous, because you're so young, and just starting to come of age. So I want you to stay out of trouble." Adele finished, giving Aude a meaningful stare. She nodded. They sat in silence for a while longer, before muffled screaming interrupted their thoughts, causing them both to look back at the apartment.

"You'd better get going." Adele told her, messing her short, gelled hair.

"Thanks." Aude mumbled, giving her a hug before she set off at a brisk pace down the street. Adele watched her until she was gone, then slowly rose, drawing her robe closer to her body. She walked towards the doorway, leaning against it and causing it to creak, catching fragments of the argument. She waited, indecisive. She waited until there was silence.

She had waited a long time.


	6. Chapter 6

_I suppose no evening is ever again like the very first evening, the nakedness ever again quite the nakedness it is that first time, the initial gestures, hesitant and doubtful and overintense, ever again what they were, for nothing we want ever turns out quite the way we want it, love or ambition or children, and we go from disappointment to disappointment, from hope to denial, from expectation to surrender, as we grow older, thinking or coming to think that what was wrong was the wanting, so intense it hurt us, and believing or coming to believe that hope was our mistake and expectation our error, and that everything the more we want it the more difficult the having it seems to be._

**In Love**-Alfred Hayes

* * *

Emma was in the backyard trimming the rose bushes. The cold, early morning air, tinged with their scent, refreshed her lungs and she inhaled deeply. The sun impassioned the dew on the leaves, as if at any moment, the entire row would burst into flame. Other than the flutter of wings as a bird passed by overhead, there was a not a single sound to interrupt Emma's thoughts. She had learned to appreciate the sweetness of silence, rather than the melancholy, ever since Aude and Clementine had moved out to live their own lives. She had even learned to look forward to the silence between Lise and her, because it meant that their already fractured relationship would not break further if it was burdened by words.

When she had finished, Emma walked slowly back to the apartment. She went inside the kitchen to pour herself a glass of orange juice, then walked over to the foyer to observe her reflection in the mirror. She was wearing the auburn turtle neck sweater that Adele had knit for her last Christmas, and black cotton pants. The wrinkles on her brow and under her eyes became more pronounced when she smiled, but her eyes still had the smoky charm in them that she had hoped to preserve over the years. Her hair was certainly not as thick as it used to be and the faintest streaks of grey were just visible when Emma leaned in closer. She frowned; perhaps she would have to start dying her hair again, though perhaps not quite electric blue. With a resigned sigh and barely perceptible shrug, Emma decided that she'd managed to ease into her late forties with dignity. Then she turned as she heard sound of conversation coming from further down the hall. Walking towards it, she noticed that the door to what had once been her studio was slightly ajar, and if she focused intently she could hear what was being said.

Adele was talking to Lise. After the accident, Lise had needed more space for herself, as she had trouble sleeping in their old bed, so the pull out sofa had been placed in there along with a new carpet, some plants, her wardrobe, and the rest of her belongings. Now, everything had been packed into boxes. Lise was insisting that this had been inevitable for years.

"I knew this day was coming, I knew it, I knew it!" she snapped, bringing herself in front of Adele, the wheels on her chair squealing with the effort. "I knew ever since the day Emma set eyes on you." she muttered bitterly.

"Lise, we've been over this countless times!" Adele reminded her, equally as frustrated. "You can't seriously be thinking of going now."

She laughed harshly, without a trace of mirth. "Don't pretend you haven't been waiting for it! I bet you wished I'd died in that car accident, don't you?"

Adele's eyebrows drew together in anger. "That's ridiculous, and you know it. I've done everything I can to help!"

"Yes," Lise sneered," you have, and now I wonder if that was purely out of the goodness of your heart or because you just wanted an excuse to be near Emma." She waved her hand contemptuously. "It doesn't matter. The movers will be here soon to take me to my country house, and I won't be a _problem _anymore."

Adele felt her cheeks flush, like she was a little girl being punished. But she cleared her throat and said "I love Emma." as if that was the only reason she would ever need in her life to exist.

Lise raised her chin proudly. "I love Emma too. I've been there for her since _before_ she met you...and I was there when you two met in that bar. I know the bond you share; she praised you endlessly, and I can see the spark in her eyes every time your name is so much as mentioned. I can see it in the way she painted you. I can see it in the way that she looks at you, even now...but I was there for her when she needed someone to talk to. I was there for her when she cried on my shoulder, pouring her heart out about how you'd cheated on her. I was there for her when you weren't." she said softly, but there was no mistaking the lethal intention behind her words. "I love Emma, faithfully. I love Emma, and she loves you."

When Adele began to protest, fighting back tears, Lise raised a hand to stop her. "Emma is kind to me. She loves the kids. I had always hoped that she would love me eventually...But it's always been you." Lise turned her wheelchair away, yanking the door open, and gasped as she saw Emma, standing there with tears streaming down her face.

* * *

They spent the whole day holding each other on the bed, shuddering with exhaustion and sadness, and gasping apologies and fragments of comfort in between bursts of crying. Hours slipped by almost without notice, until Adele had come back from the bathroom after washing her face yet again to sit beside Emma. She took her hand and held it, stroking the skin with her thumb, until Emma reached to grasp a strand of grey from Adele's hair.

"Maybe you should dye your hair blue." Emma joked weakly, her first attempt at humour after a very long time.

"Sometimes I have no idea where the time goes." Adele said heavily. She gestured to the two of them. "Look at us-we've known each other for

years. And it's all come to this: the kids are gone, Lise is gone..." Adele trailed off as Emma moved closer and whispered:

"We're all alone."

As the implications of this statement settled in, Emma took her hand and kissed it. Then she continued to plant kisses all along her arm, until she reached the sensitive hollow of Adele's neck and kissed her there too, causing her to sigh longingly. Emma slipped the straps of her dress off slowly and in one graceful movement, pulled it off entirely. She gasped, her beautiful eyes widening, as she noticed Adele's tattoo.

"When did you get this?" she asked, tracing her thumb over the faded letters.

"A very long time ago." Adele replied huskily, reaching forward to undress Emma. When their clothes were discarded, she gently placed her hands on Emma's face, as familiar to Adele as her own features were, and kissed her tenderly.

"Just you, and me, and love." Adele whispered, and they kissed each other tristfully-without a trace of guilt.

* * *

Afterwords, Adele inhaled the exquisite perfection of their silence, moving her head to the side to look fondly at Emma. She was sleeping on her back, her hair splayed out on the pillow, one arm languidly draped across Adele's legs, and her other arm hanging off the side of the bed. Adele smiled tenderly and put her hand on Emma's chest, feeling her heart beat. She rested there for a moment in appreciation, feeling life pulsating under her skin. Then Adele's hand lightly traveled along Emma's body, seeking sanctuary in her curves and following the intricate path of her veins that led to her quiet valleys. Even when sleeping Emma had the vitality of a river running deep and wild. The pale pre-dawn light had begun to seep into the bedroom; the outside world was seeking entry into their lives. But in between the spaces it could not touch, that was where Adele was lost-happily drowning in ever shifting depths of blue.

_You are beautiful like demolition. Just the thought of you draws my knuckles white. I don't need a god. I have you and your beautiful mouth, your hands holding onto me, the nails leaving unfelt wounds, your hot breath on my neck. The taste of your saliva. T**he darkness is ours. The nights belong to us. Everything we do is secret. Nothing we do will ever be understood; we will be feared and kept well away from. It will be the stuff of legend, endless discussion and limitless inspiration for the brave of heart. It's you and me in this room, on this floor. Beyond life, beyond morality.** We are gleaming animals painted in moonlit sweat glow. Our eyes turn to jewels and everything we do is an example of spontaneous perfection. I have been waiting all my life to be with you. My heart slams against my ribs when I think of the slaughtered nights I spent all over the world waiting to feel your touch. The time I annihilated while I waited like a man doing a life sentence. Now you're here and everything we touch explodes, bursts into bloom or burns to ash. History atomizes and negates itself with our every shared breath. I need you like life needs life. I want you bad like a natural disaster. You are all I see. You are the only one I want to know. _**Henry Rollins**


End file.
